Sunday, October 16, 2005

Everything they say is true.

Don't go to bars by yourself. Just don't. Even if you're so soul-suckingly bored that you think maybe you'd enjoy ANY kind of social interaction, even with TOTAL FREAKS. Even if you want to make sure you still know how to talk. Even if you feel like it's wrong to sit in your apartment in a new town. Ignore your wanderlust, try not to think about making friends, stay home, and watch Law and Order: SVU.

I walked downtown at around 11pm and decided to enter a bar called "Blind Willie's." There was live music coming from inside, so I thought it might be a nice place. The music was good, but no one seemed to be enjoying it to much-- no dancers, few clappers, but lots of people in the bar. I got a gin and tonic and sat down to tap my foot and people-watch. Apparently I have a big sign on my back that says "Hey WEIRDOS! Come over HERE! Talk to ME!" because before I knew it some 44-year-old Southern-looking "deliverance"-esque version of an emaciated Professor Gordon Thompson is buying me a drink and telling me that HE'S a musician.

Reason number 9385394876 not to go to bar alone: you can't really gracefully start to ignore freaks by talking to your companion.

I tell him that I'M a scientist, and he starts telling me that he could tell I was "educated" yadda yadda yadda. Basically between the loud music and the southern accent I could understand little of what he was saying. So what do I do? I accept his offer to go to a different bar. Don't worry, this was AFTER he outright promised he wasn't trying to pick me up and/or rape me.

Reason number 9385394877 not to go to bar alone: the freaks you can't ignore become your companions.

Fine. So now I'm walking down the street with this man [I really can't remember his name at all] and he's nice enough. Why, he even gave a dollar to a street musician. He bought me a shot of Petrone at this other bar and proceeds to tell me that he parties like a rock star and loves weed and cocaine. Great. Looking around, here I am in this posh little bar surrounded by posh people, and I'm sitting with the absolute scummiest old man ever. Go figure. When they asked him for ID [God knows why] he took off his baseball cap and pointed at his balding head.

I deserved it, but it could have been a lot worse. I eventually managed an absolutely flawless and excellent escape, he said it was nice meeting me, and that I was very nice for putting up with a crazy old man.

I'm still never going to another bar alone again. Ever.

4 comments:

Mackenzie said...

OH MY GOD! LEEEEEEENA! Do I have to start giving you lectures???? You do NOT under any circumstances go into a bar by yourself in a city that you don't know. And then, even more importantly, you do NOT accept an invitation to go to another bar with someone you just met! What if he hadn't taken you to another bar? JEEZ LENA! You make me so worried about you by yourself! Promise that you will never never never do this ever again because I'll kill you. That is if some creepy man trying to pick you up at a bar doesn't rape you and kill you first. Stupid girl!

P.S. I love you and I miss you and I'm sorry that I yelled. But christ!

Lena Webb said...

But he promised he WOULDN'T rape me! And we literally walked next door! And I don't really live in the city. It's a town. There were two police officers right next to us! Probably because this guy was totally a convict, but I made it seem worse than it really was. Maybe.

Don't you worry, I won't do it again. Mom. Over-protective long-distance lover. Best Friend of Life and Beyond.

Lena Webb said...

By the way, I totally got an A in self-defense class and Brendon can confirm how rigorous the training was.

Accidentally Disastrous said...

Confirmed!